


Writer's Block

by Aegialia



Category: JONES Diana Wynne - Works, The Chronicles of Chrestomanci - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: F/F, M/M, Post-Canon, Witch Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3203123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aegialia/pseuds/Aegialia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Though she disliked melodrama, Nan was very close to banging her head repeatedly on her keyboard. It was unlikely to be as satisfying as she imagined and so she instead held down the "F" key until the page was full."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Writer's Block

Some days, stories flowed from Nan like rapids, weaving her magic on paper in reams. Some days, it came like an old river, a steady outpouring of bright words.   
Today, words came like cold molasses. It was always like this. The nearer to a deadline, the more calls from the publisher, the less she found herself able to write. Though she disliked melodrama, Nan was very close to banging her head repeatedly on her keyboard. It was unlikely to be as satisfying as she imagined and so she instead held down the "F" key until the page was full.   
She glanced at the clock. 4:34. A little less than two hours until Estelle could be expected back at home, bringing with her the promise of dinner and distractions. Two hours felt like an eternity.   
In a sudden fit of despair, she closed her document and sped out the door. It was brisk weather, but nothing unpleasant. Her feet led her slowly towards the apartment Charles and Nirupam were renting. They'd all thought it would be lovely to live in the same city again when she and Estelle had moved in about a half mile away. It was nice, for the most part. The only issue was that Nan and Charles both tend to barge in at poor times.   
Nan hunted around the little porch for their spare key. She eventually found it poorly hidden under a very obvious brick.   
"If you're a thief, I feel I should warn you that I'm a poor graduate student and my boyfriend works at a toy store. The left hand neighbor just got a promotion, please rob him instead," Charles shouted as Nan opened the door.   
"You really ought to hide your key better, anyone could find it," she said in reply.   
"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice flat.   
"Writer's block. Give me an idea."  
"1) You could have called. 2) I'm working on my thesis. 3) I don't care."  
"Don't be mean," Nan said, swinging down into a chair across from where he was writing in a yellow notebook. "How's the thesis coming?"  
"I hate child psychologists and the lack of research into the affect of psychiatric medication on magical abilities is disturbing."  
"Sounds fascinating. What should I write about?"  
"Write some more about Estelle's fabulous enchanter."  
Nan groaned enormously. "I've written more about him than any of my own characters. I'm bored of him."  
"Does he have a love interest yet?"  
"Two. A young man haunted by the crimes of a former life and a high priestess who runs away with him to avoid her inevitable sacrifice."  
"Hmm."  
"I swear to god, if you don't give me an actual prompt, I will sing off-key nursery rhymes for the rest of the day," Nan threatened.   
Charles half-glared at her. "A town of shoes go on strike," he finally said.   
"Ooh, that could hold promise. What town were you thinking? What type of-" she began before he interrupted, glaring darkly over his glasses at her.   
"I don't care, I don't care, get out of my house, I hate you."  
"Fine, fine. Enjoy your joyless isolation."  
"Trust me, I do," he called after her.   
All the way home, she mulled over the idea of striking shoes. By the time Estelle was back from the stables, she had 1,500 words of rubber labor relations.   
"How was your day?" Nan asked, standing up to give her a kiss.   
"Oh, fine, fine. Molly, did I tell you about Molly?, well she finally managed to stay on the horse for a full minute, we're all very proud. By the way, Mother called, she might come over for dinner some time next week, is that okay?" Estelle asked.   
"Sure, let me know when she’ll be here, I’ll pick up something for dessert," Nan said.   
Estelle walked into the kitchen and put a pot of water on the stovetop to boil.   
“Pesto and ravioli sound good to you?”  
“Sounds perfect,” she replied, smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Nan is a children's book author, Estelle is a riding instructor, Nirupam works at a toy shop and freelance designs jigsaw puzzles, Charles is training to become a special ed. teacher with a focus on kids with magical abilities. 
> 
> This is my first time posting fanfiction, so please be kindly with me.
> 
> Come talk to me about these cool kids at gloomthkin.tumblr.com


End file.
